the Castilian adventurers when disappointed in their search for gold,
was judged to be of importance by the Indians, who frequently repeated
it to Jacques Cartier. Cartier is supposed to have mistaken this
oft-heard expression for the name of the new country. A more likely
derivation, however, is found in the Indian compound word
Caugh-na-daugh, or ‘village of huts;’ and this, it is thought, has
gradually settled into the euphonious and easily pronounced name of
‘Canada.’
In later years the Micmac Indians were along the shores of the Gaspé
Peninsula in large numbers, but more recently they have almost deserted
the region, and are to be found in New Brunswick, etc.
It is related that when Lord Aylmer was Governor-General he once went on
an excursion to Gaspé. Micmac Indians to the number of nearly 500
flocked to welcome the ‘great chief.’ When the governor landed with a
brilliant staff, he was met by Peter Basket, the great Micmac Chief, at
the head of the aboriginal deputation. The chief, a fine, powerful man,
and surrounded by his principal warriors, at once commenced a long
oration in the usual solemn, singsong tone, accompanied with frequent
bowings of the head.
It happened that a vessel had been wrecked in the Gulf some months
previously, and the Indians proving themselves ready and adroit wreckers
had profited largely by the windfall. Among other things they had seized
for personal adornment was a box full of labels for decanters, marked in
conspicuous characters, ‘Rum,’ ‘Gin,’ ‘Brandy,’ etc.
The chief had his head liberally encircled with the usual ornaments,
and, in addition, had dexterously affixed to his ears and nose some of
the labels as bangles.
At first they were not particularly noticeable amid the general novelty
of the spectacle, but while listening to the prolonged harangue of the
chief, the governor began to scrutinize his appearance and dress; and
then his ears and nose with the labels inscribed ‘Brandy.’ ‘Gin,’ ‘Rum,’
etc. Glancing towards his staff he could no longer maintain his gravity,
and was joined in a hearty but indecorous burst of unrestrainable
laughter.
[Illustration: GASPÉ PENINSULA]
1. Carleton
2. New Carlisle
3. Gaspé
The indignant chief, with his followers, immediately withdrew, and would
neither be pacified nor persuaded to return, although the cause of the
ill-timed merriment was explained to him.
Sunrise on the Gaspé is a beautiful sight. The long stretch of sandy
beach, the opposite shore with the pine and fir trees in the far
background, the houses of the fishermen, the boats on the strand, the
waving fields of grain, the ever-brightening sun tinting all with
increasing light, and in the distant offing the dark hull of a vessel
that has not yet passed into the bay; all make a new picture.
“What a delightful haven of rest Gaspé is for the overworked and
sleepless New Yorker!” remarked a Gothamite who makes this his summer
home. Another, on his return from mackerel fishing exclaimed, “What a
glorious spot to recuperate exhausted nature! No noise, no telegrams, no
trusts, no bank troubles, no corporation frauds, no boodlers, no
presidential elections!...... Instead, sleep, bracing air and
incomparable landscapes.”
No one is in a hurry here. They get up when they like. They do not
rush—they saunter. No feverish haste to do anything. If a thing is not
done to-day—very good, it may be done tomorrow. Idle older people smoke
all day, gossip a bit, take a walk, and otherwise amuse themselves. They
retire early and sleep soundly, undisturbed by civilization’s din.
A characteristic little story is related by Lemoine in his excellent
‘Maple Leaves,’ or Explorations in the Lower St. Lawrence. It seems that
the government of the day had sent a commissioner to Gaspé to enquire
into the discipline, etc., of the county prison there. When he arrived,
he found the jailer sitting on the court house steps, in an easy chair,
smoking a huge Dutch meerschaum. This is a transcript of the dialogue
that ensued:
“Won’t you step in, Mr. Commissioner, and see how we manage here. My
turnkey is away catching his winter’s cod. My prisoners are all in good
health, and I have eighteen of them.”
“I should like to see them,” replied the visiting official.
“Are you in a hurry—will it do after supper?” asked the genial jailer.
“I will have them all here then.”
“I cannot wait,” replied the official, “as I have to make up my report
at once.”
“Sorry you have so little time,” the jailer now remarked; “the fact is,
my prisoners take a turn in the country every morning, then they do up
my garden, catch a few fresh trout for dinner, and do other little
things; but at sundown all come back here to sleep. I treat them well,
and they don’t mind staying in at nights. Wait until the evening, they
are looking up my two cows that are off in the woods, and I promise to
trot out every man-jack of the eighteen.”
[Illustration]
There is excellent fishing in the York and Dartmouth Rivers, as well as
in the waters of the harbor and bay; and visitors in pleasant Gaspé have
no lack of general summer amusements.
Steering south and crossing Mal Bay, the fishing village of Percé is
reached, a district made remarkable by the neighboring Percé Rock and
Bonaventure Island. After leaving Percé, the steamship passes between
island and rock and affords fine views of both.
Bonaventure Island acts as a breakwater for the Percé shores from which
it is distant about two-and-a-half miles. Its inhabitants are fishermen.
The island is a mass of rock with cliffs nearly 500 feet high, and a
sail around it is very enjoyable. Several desperate naval engagements
have taken place nearby. It is at the Percé Rock, however, that interest
centres itself strongly.
Percé Rock is nearly 300 feet high and about 500 feet long. Its
precipitous sides rise directly from the sea. The huge cliff is pierced
by a lofty arch under which boats sometimes pass. Formerly there was a
second arch or tunnel near the outer end of the rock, but it fell with a
great crash, leaving only a high pillar of what had stood before. The
top is covered with grass; and sea birds in great numbers make it their
home. Their loud cries have often helped to guide home the mariner when
caught in a fog.
Of the general scenery found here much may be written that is favorable.
The village has two coves and is divided by the Mont Joli headland.
Artists and lovers of wild and romantic scenery may find here all that
their hearts desire. Mont Ste. Anne in rear of the village rises almost
abruptly to a height of 1300 feet or more, and is the first sight of
land obtained from vessels coming up the Gulf to the south of the Island
of Anticosti. On a clear day it may be seen sixty miles away. The ascent
towards French Town commands a good general view, and makes an excellent
standpoint from which to see the Percé Rock. A climb up Mont Ste. Anne
will disclose an outspread panorama the like of which is rarely seen. As
many as two hundred sail have been counted on the surrounding waters. On
the slopes, too, may be found fossil remains of elevated beaches, and
interesting specimens of fine quartz crystals, jasper and agate.
[Illustration: In the Gaspé Country]
The road through the mountain gorge or highway connecting Percé with
Gaspé Basin has been likened to the best of Swiss scenery.
A number of quaint legends have their origin in connection with the
Percé Rock. These all turn on the white and ghost-like vapor often seen
over the rock in the dim light, caused by flocks of birds circling
overhead in fantastic array before alighting. It is told that a Breton
maid lost her life here and that her spirit still haunts the scene. Her
lover in the days of long ago came to the New Land to seek his fortune.
She, his promised bride, he left behind, until he could make a living
and a home for her. He prospered, and soon sent back word for her to
come. She left, but met a terrible fate on the way, for her ship was
captured by Spanish corsairs and she alone was spared to become the wife
of the pirate captain. She refused, and he swore she should never reach
Quebec. When he knew her story he threatened he would sail past Percé;
and in sight of her lover she should be put to death.
This preyed on her mind to such an extent that at last, when they drew
near the place that was to have been the scene of her happiness, she
jumped overboard—the vigilance of her watchers for a moment relaxed. She
sank, and all attempts to rescue were vain. As they were cruising about
and searching the water, the lookout discovered what appeared to be a
woman rising from the water with dripping garments. It was nearing
sunset and the vessel gradually drew near the rock, lured by the figure.
It was soon discovered that the ship was slowly sinking, and orders were
given to wear away from the haunted spot. In vain the crew tried to
obey. It was hopeless; for the ship was turning to stone, her masts had
become pillars of iron, her sails—slate.
Rapidly sinking she drew near to the Percé Rock, and before the pirates
could jump over to swim ashore, they were turned to stone. The doomed
ship immediately struck the rock and became part of it. Yonder point is
said to have been the vessel’s bowsprit, there was the foremast, here
the stern. Once clearly visible, they are now worn down by wind and wave
so that they appear to be an integral part of the rock itself; but
although the ship’s identity is lost, the wraith of the poor Breton maid
lingers ever near the spot. Those living near believe she will depart
and be at rest when the last vestige of the pirate ship shall have
vanished.
It is said that sunset is the time to see the ghostly presence, and so
well is this believed that no fisherman dares to drop a line near the
spot when the evening sun dips low.
[Illustration]
Some ten miles south-west of Percé is Cape Despair, near which Queen
Anne’s great fleet under Admiral Walker met grave disaster in the great
storm that scattered and almost destroyed it. Eight large vessels were
wrecked, and the bodies of several thousand men were strewn along this
shore and on that of Egg Island. Fragments of the wrecks were to be seen
along the coast until quite recently. Here the “Flying Dutchman” is
still believed to prolong his phantom existence, for the natives say
that sometimes when the sea is quiet and calm, vast white waves roll in
from the Gulf bearing on their crest a phantom ship crowded with men in
old-style uniforms. An officer stands on the bow, with a white-clad
woman on his left arm, and as the surge sweeps the doomed ship on with
terrific speed, a tremendous crash is heard and the clear, agonizing cry
of a woman—and then, nothing is left to view save the stern cliffs and
the tranquil sea.
[Illustration]
The coast now makes off almost west, and soon the little fishing village
of Grand River, on the river of that name, is reached. This was the
former terminus of the coastal railway that now extends to Gaspé. If
desired, the return journey by rail to Campbellton may start from here.
Grand River has a good wharf and is a place of call for steamers from
Montreal, Campbellton, Dalhousie, etc. The country is pleasant and
rolling, while the scenery on the river is both varied and picturesque.
The fishing rights are leased, as is the custom through the greater part
of this province. The open sea washes the shore, and the air is very
enjoyable. The river affords excellent canoeing.
Passing Pabos and the outlets of the Great and Little Pabos Rivers, the
spreading village of Port Daniel is seen, comfortably placed on and near
the river of that name and its tributaries, as well as by the head of
its own picturesque little bay. Near here, at Pointe-au-Maquerau, the
steamship _Colborne_ went ashore with a valuable cargo of silks, wine,
hardware, silver-plate and specie. This was strewn in great confusion
along Harrington’s Cove, and even at Port Daniel. Much was picked up by
wreckers from Gaspé and Percé; and the auction sale of the salvage
brought wealth to many along the shore, for the cargo was worth over
$400,000. From the top of the Cap au Diable mountain range a splendid
panoramic view may be seen. The rivers of this district are full of wild
fowl in the spring and fall. The Grand Pabos is quite a fine stream. Not
far away is Duck Cove, a pretty spot with a clear little stream running
down to the sea. West of Newport there is a rocky little island close to
the shore, well wooded in the center and admirably suited for the
erection of a small bungalow or summer home.
[Illustration: Percé Village]
Further west is some of the wildest hill scenery, with rocky gorges, and
where foaming brooks may be seen cascading seawards in a series of
minute waterfalls. A bold and rising series of hills marks the approach
to the Gascon Capes, in the valleys of which the streams make sheer
plunges down to the shore line with many a fall of picturesque beauty.
Just between Gascons and Port Daniel a branch of the Port Daniel River
winds a devious course to the ocean. On one side a huge precipice rises,
inaccessible and almost vertical. The river washes its base, while on
the other side rolling hills and a more-shelving shore make it possible
to walk near the river bed. Some of the headlands and caves are very
striking. The minute beaches or sand-strips are covered at high tide, so
that at such time it is impossible to obtain a view save from above, or
from the tip of some further projecting rocky spur thrown out from the
main cape.
Near Port Daniel may be observed a feature that is common on the north
Chaleur shore, for the inrush of the tide has carved out lateral scoops
in the sides of the inlets and bays, so that inwardly projecting horns
make a good anchorage for boats and vessels where the sound of the
breaking waves may plainly be heard coming from the outer sides.
Sometimes a short distance of ten or twenty yards is all that separates
the active sea from the quiet haven.
Some of the smaller streams have trees on opposite banks, meeting close
and mingling their shade overhead for mile after mile. In many cases the
only way to fish or view some pleasant water-course is to walk in the
water—for the banks generally rise abruptly. It is only by the wider
streams that gravel strips or edges of green sward give a dry foothold.
The pretty brooks and streams between Grand River and Cascapedia have
pure and sparkling water in their channels, and these, like the streams
to the east, are bordered by perpendicular banks that are grass-grown
and plentifully covered with a profusion of wild flowers.
Paspebiac, the inhabitants of which are called “Papsy-Jacks” by the
English-speaking people hereabouts, with part of the village towards the
shore, tree-embowered, presents a pleasing aspect with its group of
vessels of good size lying in its clear waters. It stands on a gentle
slope that runs down to the sea. Near here the railroad track runs very
close to the brink of the cliff, so close that it will not be long
before the inroads of the sea below will cause it to be moved in.
[Illustration]
The Bonaventure is a river of fair size on which lumbering is done, as
on all the important streams of the peninsula. Clean lumbering, such as
the floating of logs, does not spoil these excellent fishing rivers. It
is the sawdust and mill refuse that is harmful, and there is a strict
provision against this and other forms of pollution throughout the whole
of the Maritime Provinces.
In the neighborhood of New Richmond and the Grand and Little Cascapedia
Rivers the hills are mountainous and beautiful, and a fine panorama of
country is unfolded in proceeding west. The village of Cascapedia is
delightfully situated; and the river takes a charming course through the
finest of scenery, dividing into forks and making many a turn in its
course.
New Richmond is prettily situated in the midst of hills and valleys in a
country that is finely wooded. The district is well watered, situated as
it is between the two Cascapedia Rivers. The head waters of the main
stream reach well up towards the St. Lawrence, and almost into
connection with the Matane. There are lakes of good size within
convenient reach.
The country from here to Carleton, at the foot of the majestic
Tracadiegash Mountain, is full of interest and beauty. Gray sand, dark
firs seeking a foothold on the mountains, the meadows, the hay fields,
the bright yellow of the grain crops, the dark brown nearer mountains
and the blue-black distant range, overcapped by clinging clouds, and the
steamy vapor in long filaments lining the folds of the hills that fade
away into distance to right and left, are all fair to behold. The pure
white wings of the seabirds, even when far away, are outlined with sharp
cut distinction against the lofty mountain background.
Here and there a tiny little hamlet hides modestly behind the sheltering
green, and the first glimpse of its presence is often the top of the
church spire barely showing through the leafy canopy. Yonder a few dark
roofs peep out from over the trees of lesser growth, and down the shore
are lighthouses and neat little wharves for vessels and steamers. Owing
to the long and narrow dimensions of the farms, and their subdivision
for various crops, the shore often presents the appearance of a great
checker-board, the dark and light patches frequently alternating with
exact regularity.
Carleton is a pleasant and cool little spot, spreading out
crescent-shaped on table land at the foot of the hills and right on the
shore, fronted by a clean sand beach. The village is peopled by
descendants of the Acadian French who came here from Tracadie. It lies
almost in a nook, nicely sheltered. The Bay of Carleton is a fine sheet
of water, with the points of Miguasha and Tracadiegetch at its western
and eastern boundaries. The little river Nouvelle empties into its
western end. It is a good place for sea fish, and the brooks and streams
inland are stocked with trout.
The Chaleur Bay shore of the Gaspé Peninsula has many attractions for
summer visitors, for being somewhat removed from the regular highways of
travel it still preserves its old-time appearance. Those who spend a
vacation in any of its homelike villages or towns cannot fail to be
pleased with all they will find there. The great hunting and fishing
opportunities are described under the chapter “Where to Go.”
In leaving the Gaspé shore, the province of Quebec is left behind, and
further progress east and south is in the province of New Brunswick.
The once fire-swept, but again busy and prosperous, town of Campbellton
stands at the head of the navigable deep-water of Chaleur Bay. The
surrounding country is well diversified and exceedingly picturesque with
its valleys and conical hills. The Sugar Loaf boldly overlooks all from
an elevation of over 900 feet. An excellent view of the broad
Restigouche River may be had from almost any part of the town.
Campbellton has good wharves and much shipping; it is also a busy
Intercolonial Railway centre. Because of its admirable situation it is a
natural centre for hunting, fishing and canoeing trips, and it makes a
good base for camping-out parties. It is also finely adapted for summer
residence of those who like to spend their vacation in a town centre
convenient to outlying country and places of interest.
[Illustration]
Almost directly over the river is Cross Point, sometimes called Mission
Point. Here there is a reservation occupied by 500 Micmac Indians. They
are skilled in woodcraft and the management of canoes, and make
excellent guides.
[Illustration: Dalhousie—Along the Harbor Shore]
A few miles up the Restigouche above Campbellton a naval encounter took
place between the French and English, off Restigouche, that resulted in
the capture of the French and the destruction of the shore defences at
Battery Point. The whole place went up in flames. Pieces of the old
French vessels, and artillery, shells and scraps of camp fittings have
been found in the neighborhood.
Dalhousie with its extensive water front, divided between river and bay
shore, its streets of generous length and proportion and its pleasant
walks and cool air, is a quiet place for summer enjoyments. Here, as at
Campbellton, there are splendid opportunities for motor-boating open to
those who take their own boats. There is a very comfortable and homelike
summer hotel on the ocean front, about two miles from the Intercolonial
Railway station. Here boats are provided free of charge to guests. There
is excellent bathing, with good country and coastwise walks and rambles.
A pleasant life with restful surroundings may be enjoyed here. The
islands off the shore make pleasant objectives for boating trips, and
the natural arch of rock in a little sandy cove, reached through the
fields, is a good direction in which to take a quiet stroll. The beach
is very enjoyable, and ladies spend many happy hours here watching the
children boating and playing in the sand.
[Illustration]
Charlo River is one of that fine chain of watering places or summer
resorts that stretches down the River and Gulf of St. Lawrence to the
Atlantic shore, following the line of the Intercolonial Railway. From
Charlo, and east, the wide, open waters of the Gulf are gradually
reached; but strong as this district is in water privileges and cool
air, it has other features that are almost greater. For Charlo is one of
those delightful country places where fine woods abound, where glorious
country roads stretch out in many a shady avenue of noble trees, and
where a romantic river dashes and plays over rocks, tumbles over falls,
courses through gorges, ripples under bridges, rests by the meadows and
slumbers under the shady hills. For fishermen it has great attraction,
because it is an “open” stream; but a still greater lure is the fact
that fine salmon are caught there, and the waters are not fished out.
For some reason, probably because of its pure water, salmon often turn
into the Charlo in large numbers. On that account and because of the
total absence of urban life, excellent fishing is the result.
The Charlo is a stream full of beauty, and one that the nature-lover may
enjoy to his heart’s content. The country around and every approach to
the river is clean, picturesque and unspoiled by vandal crowds. There
are no excitements and no startling incidents in the quiet life of the
place. On the other hand, there is every suitable surrounding and
inducement to enjoy nature, to live a life of quiet ease varied by
healthful recreation amidst enjoyable surroundings—a life that best fits
the vacationist for active winter work in the crowded city.
The conformation of the country through which the river runs is such
that fishing may readily be done in many places without boats. Another
advantage is that the river is close at hand. It is not necessary to go
a considerable distance before a line may be well cast, for a short walk
leads to woodland depths, leafy shade and the secluded, rippling stream.
[Illustration: CHARLO RIVER]
1. Natural Arch, Dalhousie
2. The Rippling Charlo
3. Tea in the Woods, Charlo River
4. Fishing in the Charlo River
5. Charlo Falls
6. Jacquet River
[Illustration]
A pleasant and comfortable place is found at Henderson’s, near the bay
shore, not far from the mouth of the Charlo River, where there is a
combination of country hotel, farmhouse and home. Here visitors will
feel at home from the moment they arrive.
The house, built somewhat on the old French plan with an open court
behind and upper story verandas, has excellent porches surrounding it, a
pleasant outlook, and the bay shore a short distance in its rear
accessible for boating and bathing.
Bungalows are being erected, and a very enjoyable social life is enjoyed
by the happy fraternity that congregates here from various parts of
Canada and the U.S.A. A plan sometimes followed is that of living in a
simple but comfortable bungalow on the shore, taking meals at the inn.
Shacks and tents are also put up by the proprietor for those who wish to
enjoy outdoor life to its full extent.